


Nightmares I can't escape from

by Anthony_Rmeier



Category: Original Work
Genre: Backstory, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Military, Nightmares, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2020-01-13 12:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthony_Rmeier/pseuds/Anthony_Rmeier
Summary: My OC John William Morrison still blames himself for his former girlfriends death, and dreams about it. If you yourself have nightmares and stuff like this triggers you, you might wanna avoid this.





	Nightmares I can't escape from

**_4th of February, 2082_ **

 

John's bright green eyes open, only to stare up at a white ceiling, catching a glimpse of familiar furniture and decorations in the corner of his vision. He groans. Why does this seem familiar and estranged at the same time? As he rolls over to his side, a pair of beautiful hazel orbs met his gaze.

"Good morning sleepyhead." A soothing female voice spoke with an audible smile. "Sammy?" John mumbled sleepily, a little giggle following soon as a response. "Who else would it be you dork?" The girl smiled, sitting on a few of the soft blankets that were scattered all over their comfortable bed. "You still slept when I woke up, so I decided to make us breakfast. I know you had a few long days. You deserve not to work for once." Sam whispered as she leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

With that she got up. A hint for John to follow her - and the scent of pancakes- downstairs to eat and get ready for a chilled movie day on the couch.

"God, what would I do without you?" John asked no one in particular, while putting on the first shirt he found laying on the floor. "No one knows," an answer came from behind him as warm, gentle arms hugged him from behind. "But I hope that we don't have to find out. Now c'mon Johnny, the food is getting cold." The Latina exclaimed, her voice changing from serious to excited as soon as she talked about food. It made John laugh. It always did.

The second they stepped out of the bedroom, a loud beeping interrupted their pleasant chit-chat. John got a weird feeling, just wanting to step up closer to his beautiful girlfriend to protect her if something were to happen. He didn't get the chance.

Everything went black, and as soon as John could open his eyes again, he found the apartment around him in shatters, not knowing how long he had been out cold for.

** _It isn't supposed to last this long._ **

He felt blood flowing down his... _everything._ He didn't care though. The instinct to  _help, protect, save_ came over him. He cought as he tried to scream out for Sam, who he knew was with him just seconds before everything had gone to shit.

**_ Fuck. _ **

"S-Sam" he stuttered weakly, trying to get up and stop the urge of coughing. "Sam!" he got more panicked, the more he looked around, still not being able to spot her in the rubble that only this morning had been his home. **_Please let this all be a dream_** , he thought to himself as he dragged his hurting body through the shattered building. He didn't know where he was going. Hell, he even know where he was hurt, just knew that he was, and his intuition as a soldier told him to lay low and wait until help arrived. Help had to arrive. The house ~~is~~ had been in the middle of the village after all.

**_ No! no, please. _ **

Time started to move in slowmotion as he spotted his girlfriend in the middle of the rubble and destruction. Adrenaline shot through his body as he ran towards her. He picked up her seemingly lifeless, blood covered body and held her, for a second completely forgetting his training and what to check for if people were in a critical condition. After a few long seconds, he checked her pulse.

_**NO!** _

Nothing. Not a single beat. A silent tear rolled down his face. He was too late. Maybe he could've saved her. A thousand thoughts raced through his brain. Some resembling something like _' **you could've saved her'**_ others more like **_'this is a dream. It has to be. Please'._**

_**NOOO!** _

He woke up in a cold sweat, almost hurting his head on the wodden headboard of his bed as he sat up. He knew that dream. It's been haunting him ever since that cursed day. His life had went from a normal and pretty happy life with a hard job, to a total shitpile he isn't even sure he can call life anymore.

He sat on the side of his uncomfortable bed, not able to think or to react any other way than to cry. The voices in his head will never really shut up, will they? Telling him that it was his fault, and his fault alone. That he isn't good enough. But on the other hand, that he was weak for crying. Y'know the drill. He must've sat there for a half hour or something of the sorts. Just crying and not really knowing what to think about. When he found the strength to finally get off the bed, his emerald coloured eyes scanned the dark room for any danger, just as they always did, not finding much but his roommate and their furniture.

Thomas Miller. His roommate. His best friend. Had been and will be for years to come, and on top of that, he was a good listener. Always the player of the group since his sky blue eyes could get every girl wrapped around his finger.

They had been at this base for one and a half years now. The attack had happened only one year ago. Just on the day before his 25th birthday. John sight, getting up off the bed, groaning as he realized how sore his body was. On that one day, he had almost died as well, sometimes almost sad he didn't, but he doesn't let it show. A few pieces of building had pierced his chest and stomach, his right leg had deep burn scars. His body as a whole was one giant scar; even he didn't know where the first one started and the last one ended.

He didn't want to think about it right now.

He grabbed a smoke and a lighter from his table, and as soon as he had gotten his black boots and his brown coat on, his roommate Miller had woken up from the ruckus he was unwillingly causing.

"Something up man?" He was on alert right away, finding his roommate standing in the middle of the room at 2am. Miller was a good man. He was always there for him.

John almost smiled at the concern of Thomas, but mumbled a "Nah dude, sorry" instead. Miller, being the friend he is, knew exactly what was going on and got up from his similarly uncomfortable bed to put on his boots at well.

"You don't need to apologise. Don't need to tell me what's up neither. I'mma come with you if you don't mind." He assured as he put his navy blue jacket on.

John smiled that genuine smile of his that could melt anyone's heart "I'd actually really like that"

And with that then headed out, only in pj's and coats, telling each other funny stories and not returning before the sun lit up the base. Their teammates asked why they were so tired and the commander was angry at them for leaving base past curfew, but they kept their mouths shut. It was just their little secret.

**Author's Note:**

> So... This is kinda in the middle of his story, and if you guys like this one-shot, let me know. I might put another story out there. Mind you that this is the first time I'm posting my work online, so if it's not that good, I apologize.  
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
